Conform

by Ariel Sullivan

I’ve never been good at anything. Or that’s what I’ve been told my whole life. I disagree, though. I’ve always been good at fucking things up.

My job was to destroy, piece by piece, the remnants of the world ancient humans had laid waste to in the Last War.

Thoughts, hopes, wants: They were unnecessary. A distraction. The Illum that ran the city provided the Minor Defects, myself included, with everything we needed. What was left to think about?

It was as if sorting these relics showed us how easily they were willing to toss aside the things they saw no value in. Reminding all the women of procreation age what would await us if we failed the Greater Good.

Their conflicting beliefs and ideologies created an irreparable divide that had resulted in near extinction.

Each offspring had a MIND—Monitoring Intelligence Nanochip Device—inserted into the left wrist at birth, providing the Illum’s systems with constant updates on our health, down to our genetic makeup.

But the sweet perfume of the flowers turned sour at the truth that Minors were given the bare minimum while the Elite surrounded themselves with luxuries.

how relatable

“Because there is a desperation in their embrace. See how she clings to him, how he’s holding her face? When you embrace hello, there’s hope. There’s a future. You don’t cling because you know there will be more to come. The finality in a goodbye embrace—when you let go, it might never happen again. So you cling to the person, the feeling, the moment. You hold on longer because it’s doomed to be nothing but a memory.”

“I think they get rid of all the ones with people to erase what life was like before the war. I think anything that makes the viewer feel is—is a threat. Like we might want more, and that would be the end of everything. Or maybe the beginning.”

What about the injustice of it—that those in the sky had access to such things while the rest of us didn’t? Why were they permitted luxuries while the rest of us were denied basic human needs? Did they withhold it until we became desperate and compliant?

“You can sit on your bed. I promise I won’t ravish you,” Hal drawled. “Unless you ask me to, Moonlight.” He flashed a sinful grin.

I can’t decide what is worse, being unknown or knowing I’m utterly alone in my loneliness.”

“Things are made more beautiful by pain. You see everything differently afterward. Not right away. It takes time, but knowing the darkest depths—” Hal paused. “It allows you to experience the highest peaks.”

“You will regret loving someone you cannot have. It will destroy you. You will spend your entire life fighting. Fighting to keep a secret. Fighting to hide your feelings. Fighting for someone you cannot have. You will never find peace; all you will have are fleeting moments in secret. The goodbyes will lurk and ruin you, cutting you down each time.

My heart swelled. I would pay any price. I would protect our secret, and I would bear the weight of every goodbye, for this moment. This choice. I wanted this for me. For us.